Seven Deadly Sins
by MorallyTwisted
Summary: A collection of one shots relating to a character and their sin... Rated just to be safe
1. Lust

**Title: **Seven Deadly Sins

**Summary: **A collection of one-shots relating to a character and their sin…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean nor the characters in this collection.

**Author's Note: **There are a number of relationships explored deep within the bowels of this collection. If there is one expressed that you are not particularly a fan of, please stick it out and still review. Lollipops and Tricorn hats for those who do.

**Author's Note #2: **Unfortunately, the content of this collection does not exactly mirror the title with which it was bestowed. I started this collection last year some time and was very proud of the outcomes, however I only managed to complete the first three of the Sins - _Lust, Gluttony _and _Greed_. My own sin relating to this collection, pride, has forced me to submit the completed aspects for, hopefully, your pleasure but only Lust, Gluttony and Greed shall be posted - unless many reviews grants me with inspiration to complete the last four. I'm hoping that's the case.

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**Lust**

* * *

Charcter: _Elizabeth Swann_

* * *

There is a myth among the world of piracy and sailing that claims that having a woman aboard is bad luck.

On the _Black Pearl_, no such myth existed.

Instead, the _Pearl_ thrived with a woman onboard. She was not as strong as the male sailors, nor was she as talented as some with the blade of a sword. She often made mistakes; she could not read the weather to an acceptable degree by the Captain and she preferred to be cleaner than most.

But she loved adventure. She'd willingly swing from the safety of the _Pearl _over the dark depths of the unpredictable sea and onto the foreign timbers of an opposing, or even unsuspecting, ship. She'd smile as she pressed her heavy cutlass to the throat of a sailor, even if her opposition was stronger and larger than herself.

She'd loved the life she had chosen for herself. She loved the _Pearl _and its inhabitants. She loved it all.

After all, the _Pearl _was her home. Not Port Royal with the reliability of William Turner, as she had previously thought. But rather, her home was wherever the _Pearl _took her; in the unpredictable seas and under the rule of her Captain.

With a smile gracing her lips, Elizabeth Swann sighed, her eyes still closed and weighed down with the remnants of sleep. She was beginning to sound like Jack in her affections for the Dark Lady. Perhaps, she had spent too much time around the man…

Sleepily, she stretched out a tired and work worn hand, letting it search the blankets in front of her. It came to rest on nothing of particular importance; only tangled sheets, the corner of a lumpy and uncomfortable pillow and the warmth left from the body that had previously slept there.

She should've known that he'd already be attending to his mistress.

Smiling, she rolled over, opening her eyes for the first time to take in the sight of the Captain's Cabin of _The_ _Black Pearl_ in admiration. Although merely a ship, the _Pearl _was the center point of all her dreams as a young child. The _Pearl _was a physical representation of what she wanted most in the world.

The _Black Pearl_ was freedom.

Freedom was the driving point in her life. It was behind her decision to sail to the ends of the world to rescue the Captain of the ship she cared for so dearly. It was what made her explain to Will why she could not return to Port Royal with him. It was what drove her into the arms of Jack Sparrow.

"_You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it."_

Her smile grew as those words echoed deep within her mind. At first, she had downright objected to his statement, not verbally but mentally. Perhaps because it had irritated her at how well he knew her.

After leaving him for dead upon the _Pearl,_ she had realized that, despite herself, she felt a connection between herself and Jack. A connection she had never experienced before.

Granted, Will was respectable, stable and she loved him dearly.

But Jack was passionate, outgoing, and spontaneous – he drove her insane and she loved it.

_It, _she reminded herself sternly as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, its sheets mangled from the previous night. She loved his attitude, his personality, and his effect on her.

But him, himself?

Lust, yes.

Desire, of course.

But love?

She doubted he would ever feel anything remotely close to love for her, so why waste her time feeling such emotions towards him?

In the end, she was a pirate – through and through.

Lust would do her just fine.

Pressing a calloused hand to her forehead, she pushed herself off the bed, immediately moving quickly around the small cabin, searching for her long-ago discarded clothes.

She quickly found them, strewn in a trail leading from the wooden doors of the cabin to the foot of the small, uncomfortable bed that both Jack and herself graced each night. Quickly, she picked them up, covering her otherwise naked body and moved from the view of the frosted windows of the doors.

The crew knew that she was Jack's woman. They knew not to gaze upon her with anything more than curiosity or futile admiration. But she didn't trust them completely. After all, the glass panels of the doors may be blurred but they weren't completely opaque.

As she pulled her shirt – a sailor's shirt, fit for a man – over her head, she took a moment to pause and inhale the smell of the fabric. Rum, it smelt like rum. Like Jack.

Shaking her head, a physical representation of her shaking the thoughts from her mind, she pulled on her pants and buttoned them, tying a sash around the waistline before shrugging into her jacket.

She was undoubtedly late for her work, possibly by minutes, perhaps by hours. Her captain would not care, after all, if he _had_, he would've woken her. But she knew that, despite the caliber in which much of the crew regarded her, they still did not appreciate the benefits she received. Neither did she.

She did not want exceptions for her whoring.

Satisfied that she was dressed, Elizabeth threw open the door and rushed outside the quarters, shutting the door hastily behind her. Shooting a rushed but genuine smile at Jack, hunched over some rigging, she moved up the stairs and behind Gibbs, positioned at the helm of the _Pearl._

"Miss Elizabeth," Gibbs greeted courteously. The fact that she had once been a lady held in high regard had not escaped the man, and he still greeted her with grace.

"Mr. Gibbs," she replied, fastening the sash around her waist tighter. "Has Jack given you a bearing yet?"

She could not hide the smile from her face and the glee from her voice as she spoke the words. After all, having Jack Sparrow's infamous compass pointing towards herself when he pondered over where his latest conquest would be was a honor within itself.

"Yes, actually," a voice from behind her answered.

Still smiling, she spun on her heels to face Jack; the owner of the husky voice. "Jack," she greeted.

"Elizabeth," Jack replied before turning his attention to Gibbs, "do you mind?" He motioned to Elizabeth.

"No, sir," Gibbs responded with nod, focusing on the stretch of timber and sea in front of him.

Turning to her, Jack rested his sea-worn hands upon her upper arms, pushing her backwards gently. Somewhat obediently, she did not resist his urging and stepped backwards in time until she stopped suddenly, the wood of the _Pearl_'s railing hard against her back.

Now confident that she was trapped between the railing and his own body, Jack ducked his head, brushing his lips harshly against Elizabeth's. With a satisfied smile, he pulled back. "Mornin' love," he greeted, his dark eyes enticing her.

Smiling, she licked her lips, tasting the fine hints of rum that lingered from the kiss. As she watched his grin widen to match her own, she let out a small giggle. "Dear Jack, are you intoxicated already?"

Jack feigned a look of pure horror at her accusation. "Me, love?" he replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm, "never."

Elizabeth giggled; her mood only lifting when she noted that Jack, too, was laughing softly. Given his usual enigmatic nature, to see emotion shining through his armor was relieving.

With a wicked grin, Elizabeth let her face change from happiness to seductiveness. Slowly, she wrapped her hands around the collar of his shirt, pulling him close so that her own face was only centimeters from his.

"I missed you this morning."

Jack eyes, she noted with glee, were not focused on her own, but rather at her lips.

"Doubtlessly," he responded, his breath warm against her face. "Something which I must make amends for right away."

As he leant in closer, Elizabeth giggled softly. "Doubtlessly," she mimicked as his lips neared her, pressing a passionate kiss upon her own.

Almost hungrily, she returned the kiss.

With Will, such a kiss would probably be frowned upon. Something for the private of their own home; not for the observation of the entire crew.

With Jack, missing such a moment for the sake of others would be frowned upon. Living in the moment, _enjoying_ the moment was not.

Still eagerly ravishing Jack's mouth with her own, Elizabeth could not help but open her eyes as the sound of distant footsteps grew louder, indicating someone was walking towards them. Not breaking off the kiss, she positioned herself so that she could see past Jack, to glance upon the intruder.

Immediately recognizing the stern, unforgiving face, she quickly pulled back, placing her hands firmly against Jack's chest. When he didn't stop in his efforts, she pushed him off herself with surprising strength that had been gained and perfected by work upon the _Pearl_.

Jack glanced at her with quizzical eyes, opening his mouth to speak.

Her eyes hard, she motioned to behind him.

She watched, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, as Jack turned around slowly.

"Ahh," Jack said softly, throwing a glance over his shoulder. A mixture of surprise and amusement crossed his features; his eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised and his mouth stretched downwards at the corners.

"Will," Elizabeth began.

"Ragetti and Pintel need you," Will stated, curtly cutting off Elizabeth. With a nod, satisfied that he had given his message, he turned on his heels and made a hasty exit.

Elizabeth sighed softly, hanging her head, as Will's retreating footsteps got softer. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Despite the fact that she had chosen the road less traveled – the road of piracy which did not end, nor start, in a glimmer of light -, she still feel a burning guilt for Will.

While engaged to him, she had kissed another.

Still engaged, she had chosen almost certain death to save said person.

Still engaged, she had greeted Jack with such passion, such happiness, that she knew that her marriage-to-be would never be.

He hadn't even let her explain her actions.

He hadn't let her tell him that, despite her relationship with Jack, she still loved him.

Pirate or not, she was still a woman and she still had feelings.

Snapping her back into reality, Jack sighed against her warm skin, taking a moment to lean back and stare into the depths of her glassy eyes. Gently he brushed her face with a dirty calloused hand, regarding her soundlessly.

"Hating yourself will only further my hate for you as I hate those who hate themselves," Jack said softly, his voice reassuring even through the complexity of his statement.

She sighed. "It's just-"

Stubbornly, Jack shook his head, pressing a finger to her lips. "He lost you, Elizabeth. Don't dwell on it."

Her mind countered Jack's statements. Will hadn't lost her; Will had had her snatched cruelly from her grasp – by none other than Jack Sparrow, a man that a lady such as herself would've usually despised.

_Lady._ The word hammered painfully in her mind. She wasn't a lady anymore. She was a pirate through and through.

Subconsciously, Elizabeth let her thumb rub over the raw brand on her foreman. _P _– the brand of a pirate. Something she had acquired during a run-in with Cutler Beckett.

He had taken such pride in the way she squirmed when he had pressed the white-hot iron to her flesh…

Elizabeth jumped uncharacteristically as Jack spoke.

"Besides," Jack continued, aiming to lighten the mood. "I'm a much better catch."

"Are you, Captain?" Elizabeth teased gently, although the burden of her betrayal of Will still weighed heavily on her mind. "And how, dare tell, can you prove such a declaration?"

When he leant in closer towards her, she could feel his warm breath against her face as he slowly inhaled and exhaled at a constant speed. Despite the excitement that bred deep within her at the intimacy of the position, she raised her jaw slightly and cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

Jack groaned loudly, pulling away slightly. "As much as the proposition of displaying such a declaration would be greatly appreciated and satisfying, I have a ship to sail."

"You could leave the ship in Gibbs's care," she suggested with a mischievous smile. "And explore such displays."

Almost defensively, Jack straightened. "Are you suggesting I hand over my beloved?"

"Never," she countered, the sultriness of her voice remaining, "If you do not wish to reap the rewards of our relationship," she pushed him backwards, manipulating their position so that she could step away in a taunting manner, "than that is your choice."

Again, Jack groaned. "Would such reaping of such rewards be still on offer _after _I tend to the ship?"

Teasingly, Elizabeth cocked her head slightly and bit her lower lip. "I'm not sure, _Captain_. Your one and only love is the sea, no? The _Pearl _the only lady you need?"

She grinned as she noted his eyes traveling up and down the length of her body.

"As a _captain, _yes…" he let his voice trail away, stepping towards her, "as a man, however…"

Elizabeth feigned shock. "The infamous Captain Sparrow admitting that he is merely a mortal man?"

"A hard thought to process, doubtlessly," Jack replied, his characteristic grin lighting up his features. "But, surprisingly, I _am _merely a man."

She snorted. "Modest too."

Almost longingly, Jack stepped forwards, his arm coming from his side to reach out for her.

With a mischievous grin, Elizabeth dodged his outstretched hand, moving backwards. "Attend to your ship, _Captain_," she stated, her tone serious even though it was merely a joke.

Eyes narrowed, Jack huffed in mock anger. "Women," he merely stated before spinning on his heels and walking away.

Knowing he would look, Elizabeth remained still, staring after his retreating form. Sure enough, as he reached the steps leading to the lower deck of the _Pearl_, he spun on his heels and flashed his gold teeth.

Smiling, Elizabeth nodded to herself.

Lust would definitely do.


	2. Gluttony

**Title: **Seven Deadly Sins

**Summary: **A collection of one-shots relating to a character and their sin…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean nor the characters in this collection.

**Author's Note: **There are a number of relationships explored deep within the bowels of this collection. If there is one expressed that you are not particularly a fan of, please stick it out and still review. Lollipops and Tricorn hats for those who do.

* * *

Gluttony

* * *

Darkness stretched out around him; the only light being that emitted from the flickering lantern he held in his outstretched hand and the dim, distant stars.

Grumbling, he stumbled over a discarded pile of useless rope. The moment he steadied himself, he turned harshly and thrust a foot out, his dirt covered boot colliding with the rope with a thud.

The heavy rope, worn from the spray of the sea and the tear of hard labor, did not move from his half-hearted and drunken attack.

Sighing, Norrington stumbled backwards, towards the mast of the _Pearl_, and slid down its length, coming to a crumpled heap at the bottom. Much like his life, he mused soundlessly as he placed the lantern down next to him and began searching his worn, dirty jacket for the bottle he had earlier stolen.

Somewhat victoriously, he pulled the bottle out and held it up in the flickering light of the lantern. Smiling, he admired the dusty bottle.

He had never thought that he would find himself drunk and keeping watch on a pirate ship. Especially, not the _Pearl._ The one ship whose pure existence, not at all helped by her captain, haunted him. The _Pearl _**ruined **him.

And yet he now called her home.

Of course, that would've never happened had Elizabeth Swann, the Elizabeth Swann that he adored so dearly, decided to go back to Port Royal with her beloved Will and make the life that he had pictured for themselves. No, instead she had befriended 'Captain' Jack Sparrow and made the _Pearl _her residence.

It was only on her pleas that Sparrow had allowed him to stay, rather than going back to being a rum-soaked, pathetic, no-life former-commodore living on the streets of Tortuga.

Sighing, he tilted back his head and put the neck of the bottle to his lips, downing the sweet liquid. Now, he was a rum-soaked, pathetic, no-life former-commodore living on the notorious _Black Pearl_.

As he swallowed the alcohol and pulled the bottle from his mouth, he inhaled deeply. He had never been fond of the liquid before. A vial drink, turning respectable men, like him, into complete scoundrels, like Sparrow.

Living in Tortuga, however, had showed him the sweeter side of the liquid. It stopped him from noticing the way his wig, something he used to wear so proudly, was degraded with the conditions it was worn under. It stopped him from caring about the smell that had soaked his navy uniform. It prevented him from putting his pride first when a wench would slide into the seat beside him, offering him use of her…services.

Now, living on the _Pearl_, he still found the liquid enticing. Now, it didn't stop him from caring about the sexual advances made by the wenches of Tortuga but rather the fact that he was sailing under pirate colours. And that he was scrubbing the deck of Sparrow's Dark Lady. And that _his_ Elizabeth had fallen, if not in love than in deep lusting, for the man he so deeply despised.

He shook his head, indicating the banishing of the thoughts from his mind. He'd not think of such things. He'd only think of his escape.

Perhaps, he began to conspire with excitement rising from deep within him, in the dead of the night – a night when he was on deck, alone, keeping a watchful eye over the anchored _Pearl_ -, he'd gather some supplies, steal onto one of the longboats and leave the _Pearl_ again.

Norrington furrowed his eyebrows. Tonight he was on deck, alone, keeping a watchful eye over the anchored _Pearl. _Grinning wildly, he tightened his protective grip around his rum bottle and used his free hand to push himself upwards and off the mast.

The alcohol he had consumed disagreed with his sudden movements and he swayed dangerously, tripping over invisible objects and stumbling sideways. Somewhat pathetically, he transferred his weight to his other foot, resulting in the stumbling in the other direction.

After a few moments, he managed to steady himself. Confident that the stumbling had only been the result of the non-existent waves lapping harshly against the hull of the _Pearl,_ he muttered happily to himself and held out his hand, stumbling forward once more.

As he collided with the wooden boards of the deck hard, he groaned loudly. Perhaps tonight wasn't the night when he'd make his witty and miraculous escape into the darkness.

Too numb to be bothered to move, Norrington simply rolled over, staring up into the dark night. He sighed loudly, lifting his rum bottle – surprisingly unharmed from the fall – to his horizontal lips.

The liquor burned his throat and the position he was laying in made him splutter some of the liquid back up. Sighing, he rested his head back against the black wood and closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure how long his eyes had been closed, or even if he had fallen to sleep, when he was awaken by a harsh, calloused but feminine hand grabbing his arm and pulling impatiently.

Norrington was quick to react, his timing not affected by the alcohol he had consumed. With a swift, but somewhat drunkenly, movement, he pulled a dagger from the waist of his torn pants, with his eyes flashing open quickly, pressed it to the neck of the owner of the hand.

"I heard you fall," a small voice choked out. Through the darkness, Norrington made out the figure of Elizabeth.

She could not hide the fear from her face.

Quickly, he retracted the dagger, sheathing it. "Did you now?" he asked, his voice casual even though he was trembling inside from the realization that he had almost just killed Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded. Pirate or not, the girl still got scared.

"Sorry," he muttered softly as Elizabeth helped him to his feet. As he stood, he felt his balance give out and he stumbled closer towards Elizabeth, putting most of his weight on her.

She grunted in response but did not complain.

Lord knows she had probably done this several times with Sparrow, Norrington mused bitterly as Elizabeth maneuvered him with practiced ease to the railing of the _Pearl._ Reaching the wood, Norrington pushed himself away from her and fell into a heap against the railing.

"Drunk again on watch?" Elizabeth noted.

He glared back. "And, once again, _Miss Swann,_ you are here to assist me."

Elizabeth stilled at his use of her proper name. "James," she began, her voice urging.

Norrington rolled his eyes, knowing what was to come. "You gave up the right to advise me years ago, _Elizabeth_."

"I'm not the rum-soaked, pirate without a life here," Elizabeth bit back defensively.

He snorted. "No, you're just sleeping with one."

The hurt that flickered through her eyes at his retort pained him, so much so that he opened his mouth to apologize.

She, however, cut him off. "We need to talk."

Immediately, Norrington let his grip on his bottle loosen. Now with two free hands, he started moving away, half-crawling, half-walking in his haste to get away. He knew what was coming. He knew what she'd say. He knew it'd be lies.

"It's just a talk," Elizabeth stated, the sadness in her voice forcing him to pause.

Sighing, he pushed himself backwards, falling into a similar position as before. "Well, talk," he replied, his hand clutching around the bottle once more.

"Jack's given you a good opportunity here. Don't jeopardize that," Elizabeth began, speaking slowly and softly as she lowered herself beside Norrington.

"No, _you _gave me an opportunity," he replied bitterly, "Jack wanted to leave me for dead, no, Jack wanted to leave me in Hell. You convinced him otherwise."

"Regardless of the way it came to be, it still is." Slowly, Elizabeth took his free hand into her own.

Her skin was warm underneath his, the perfections of womanhood only slightly marred by the life of a pirate. There was a time where he would've done anything to feel her skin against his own.

_Was._ As if he had been burned purely by the touch, he snatched his hand away. Slowly, he rolled his head to stare at her. "This _opportunity _is neither good nor wanted. As soon as we make port, wherever that may be, I plan on departing Sparrow's crew…along with Turner."

At the mention of Will, Elizabeth hung her head. Norrington, however, was unrelenting in his speech.

"Sparrow is the worst kind of man, Turner's not far behind," he stated simply, his words as cold as ice and just as harsh.

Eyes burning with fury, Elizabeth glanced up. "And yet I choose _both _of them over _you."_

Norrington let his eyes glaze over, almost symbolic of the barrier that was building itself deep within him. "You have never been a good judge of character."

"I know. I liked you once."

Smirking, Norrington raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused by her response and not at all offended. "Liked?" he questioned, his voice light and mocking.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, her voice hard and contrasting his, "liked. Past tense."

"That, I don't believe," he stated simply, a cockiness rarely shown expressing itself. "See, I think that you do like me. A lot." Norrington positioned himself so that he was facing Elizabeth, and shuffled closer towards her body. "After all, why would you not have me sent to the depths of Hell for betraying you and your beloved?"

Elizabeth grinned. "The Jack Sparrow enigmatic charm that you are attempting," she mocked, "is not working."

Usually, he would've taken such a statement as an insult…

…But perhaps he could use it to his advantage this time…

Norrington leant forward, his face bare centimeters from Elizabeth's. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, his breathing slow and steady despite the heat the radiated from the close contact. "And now your comparing me to Sparrow," he cocked his head, "another sign of your affections."

"Your drunk," Elizabeth snorted in response. "I do not fancy you…at all."

"Hmmm…" Norrington let his voice trail away, moving back slightly as if he accepted her response. Leaning back against the railing, he tipped his head back and downed the remaining contents of the bottle. The sweet liquid burned his mouth in its ferocious journey to his stomach. But lord knows he loved it.

The liquor was his addiction now.

To make sure that the contents were well and truly gone, he tipped the bottle upside down, watching the space between the neck of the bottle and the material of his pant's legs. Nothing happened; no last drops making their kamikaze dive from the bottle. Nothing.

Sighing softly, he lowered his hand heavily, resting it on his legs. He closed his eyes, taking up the serenity and quietness of the situation.

"…Is that Jack's?" Elizabeth asked suddenly, jolting him from his near-sleep.

Opening an eye, he glanced at her. Noting her line of sight, he managed to open his other eye and follow it. He smiled as he realized what she was talking about.

"Yes," he replied simply, holding the stolen bottle up for her inspection. "It is."

The pride he had for managing to steal such an item underneath Sparrow's nose was not lost in his words. At least the Navy had taught him something.

He let his grin widen as Elizabeth turned to him.

"…Impressive," she replied. From the tone of her voice, he could tell she meant it.

She flashed him a genuine smile.

He returned it.

"James," Elizabeth begun but stopped abruptly as Norrington, once again, moved closer.

This time he did not spoil the moment through words and petty debates. Instead, he moved with fierce want, need even. Within moments, his body was close to hers, his mouth lowering over hers.

His sunburnt, peeling, coarse lips brushed over Elizabeth's soft, smooth ones, unaffected by the spray of the sea and the hard days of work onboard the _Pearl._ They moved with unadulterated desire, not pausing in their quest for fulfillment.

As he let the bottle drop from his hand with a loud thud, and moved his now-free hands to cradle her head within them, he realized that Elizabeth was _not _pulling away.

Instead, she was returning his kiss with the same longing and need as himself.

With his hands tangled deep within her locks, he ran his tongue over her lips, coaxing them open. As her lips parted, he took advantage of his access, exploring the foreign depths of her mouth with hunger.

When he broke away, it was not because of guilt or any emotions whatsoever. It was merely a case of lack of oxygen. Pulling back, he let the side of his mouth curve upwards.

Without words, for they were not needed, he untangled his hands and rolled back into his previous position, leaning against the railing of the _Pearl._

He was happy with the silence that engulfed them.

Elizabeth was not.

"…I'm with Jack now," she murmured softly, almost regretfully. "James, that was…"

"Yes?" Norrington urged, gazing at her even though she avoided looking at him.

"…A one-off."

Norrington grinned. "Not a mistake, then?"

The playfulness in his voice made Elizabeth glance in his direction. "It'll only be a mistake if Jack finds out, for I can not guarantee your safety in such a situation."

He chuckled slightly. "Noted."

The silence that ensured was not tense, nor was it awkward or uncomfortable. It was soft, relaxed and, dare he suggest it, peaceful.

He smiled. Once again, he had taken something dear to Sparrow from him. Even if Sparrow would never know.

Their own secret. Something to always be remembered with content, not regret.

He liked the sound of that.

Soundlessly, he leant over Elizabeth to grab the empty bottle abandoned in the heat of the kiss. As he moved back, he shot Elizabeth a somewhat reassuring look, "I should return this. Best not let Sparrow know what I've taken."

He wasn't talking about the rum.

The gaze gracing Elizabeth's features told him that she understood exactly what he meant.

Suddenly, Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, glancing between the empty bottle of rum and Norrington. "You're not slurring," she stated, her confusion not hidden from her features.

With a snort, Norrington pushed himself upward, his stance nor balance affected by the alcohol coursing through his veins. He grinned at her, his grin neither humorous nor frightening, but rather mischievous.

She had fallen into his trap perfectly; played right into his hands.

"I'm not as drunk as you think, Miss Swann."

Then, with that statement hanging thick in the air, he walked away.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to those who have/will review! It's very much appreciated!


	3. Greed

**Title: **Seven Deadly Sins

**Summary: **A collection of one-shots relating to a character and their sin…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean nor the characters in this collection.

**Author's Note: **There are a number of relationships explored deep within the bowels of this collection. If there is one expressed that you are not particularly a fan of, please stick it out and still review. Lollipops and Tricorn hats for those who do.

**Author's Note #2: **This is the last of the written chapters - I do not plan on continuing this series unless there is overwhelming support or inspiration.

* * *

Greed

* * *

She always had a way with men. A certain level of sultriness and appeal that could not be ignored. She always got her man. Whether by force or relenting to her charms.

Until Jack Sparrow.

She had had him once before, of course. An embrace of passion and lust that hadn't truly been matched by any since. An embrace that ended by his hand, an ending that stayed with her ever since.

But now…now he was content…without her. The thought was almost impossible to comprehend and process as she watched him, standing at the helm of his glorious ship, _her _compass in his hands. Now, he had two other affections to fill the emptiness left by her.

His ship and his mistress. The care and love in which he held for them corresponding to that order, too.

Was it wrong to feel betrayed? To feel compelled to take back what had been rightfully hers? She didn't love him, although she didn't feel that Elizabeth did either, but that notwithstanding, she _still_ craved for him.

Swaying her hips in a perfected manner and running a hand up the banister, she made her way up the stairs, not stopping her seductive advances until she was standing close behind him, her body almost touching his.

After concentrating a few minutes on steering his beloved and, she liked to think, trying to distract himself from the feel of her body, Jack turned, sharply.

He glanced at her, seizing her up. "Was it you?"

Tia frowned slightly, the sudden hostility making her step backwards slightly, "was it me, what?"

Jack's gaze darkened slightly, belief in her innocence not present. "Were you the one who took _my_ bottle of rum?"

She chuckled slightly, a heavily accented laugh of passion. "Oh Jack…if I were going to take _your_," she mimicked his possessive tone, "rum, wouldn't I take more than just one bottle?"

He paused and frowned, thinking over her defense. Apparently deciding that her excuses were plausible, he turned once more, gazing over his crew. "My rum…" he repeated several times, deep in thought. "Who stole my rum?"

Satisfied that he was otherwise preoccupied to reject her advances, Tia stepped forward once more, body now fully pressed up against his as she rose on her toes to whisper into his ear. "Perhaps Norrington," she suggested, pleased by the groan he emitted from the pressure of their bodies, "he has a thing for taking what is yours."

Jack shifted slightly and Tia watched with mild amusement as he glared at Norrington's back. "I'll kill him."

"For taking the rum?"

"For taking _my_ rum."

Tia chuckled once more and stepped forward so that she was standing alongside Jack. "You and your fornications." She had chosen the word carefully; it had no particular reference to their current discussion but had plenty to the one she was attempting to draw him into.

Jack spun again, "interesting word choice."

Tia grinned. "I'm an interesting person."

"And what is it that this particular interesting person wishes to speak about? And what does it have to do with my fornications?" Jack inquired, eyebrow raised and interest peaked.

Her grin widened. "I am here to offer you a proposition."

"A proposition," Jack drawled slowly, his hesitance not hidden from his voice.

"Yes, a proposition," Tia replied, grinning at the uncomfortable situation that she had seemingly bestowed upon Jack. In her thickly accented voice, she continued. "You are not young anymore, Jack."

Jack snorted.

Tia narrowed her eyes at him, her gaze threatening and demanding. "Time shall soon inflict its pain upon you, and you shall not be the Jack Sparrow that you are now."

An eyebrow raised, Jack cocked his head. "Are you suggesting something, Tia?" He stepped closer, hoping that the proximity would push her onto the defense as opposed to him. "Or are you merely using this opportunity to get close?"

"Now, Jack…" Tia begun, drawing out the words as she let a finger trail down his chest, "…getting close hardly takes planning with you. You can't resist me…" Dropping her hand, she cocked an eyebrow at him, returning to an untouchable and distanced persona. "And my offer is something you will not be able to resist, either."

Her earlier words hadn't rung with full truthfulness. Getting close to the mysterious Captain Sparrow had become quite difficult in recent times, him either being enthralled by his first love – the _Black Pearl_ – or being occupied with his mistress – Elizabeth. And if offering him the chance to succumb to his greed allowed her to explore her own, then so be it.

"I can ensure you do not age, Jack."

He hadn't expected that; the raising of his eyebrows screamed that in volumes. Enjoying the fact that she had managed to surprise Jack Sparrow of all people, Tia stepped closer once more and ran her long fingers through his dreadlocks.

"Keep you young…forever," she continued, her face dipping towards his ear. From this position, she could spot Elizabeth in her peripheral vision, paused in her working, hand resting against a rope as she watched, intently, the advances Tia made. "Of course, I'll expect payment."

Grabbing her roughly by the forearms, Jack pushed Tia back. "I don't need youth," he growled in response; Tia deducted he had seen Elizabeth too. Just as her earlier words hadn't rung with complete truthfulness, his current ones didn't echo with absolute conviction.

Regardless, he spun on his heels and turned to leave, only stopping when Tia offered a reply. "Think of Elizabeth." She tried to sound as sultry and tantalizing as usual, but the name was spat. "She _lusts _after you, Jack. Not love." Stepping forward, Tia wrapped an arm around Jack's waist. "Lust fades."

Evidently hearing enough, Jack growled a jumbled reply and stalked off quicker.

Jack had refused her first offer, but Tia's hopes were not completely dashed yet. She knew that her own unyielding and obstinate greed reflected in Jack's heart and, to him, no price would be too high to pay for the chance to cause a pause in his aging.

So she waited. All that day, keeping her distance from Elizabeth and the other crewmembers to ensure that, when he did come looking for her, they would be alone. And, as day bled into night, she remained in solitude, retiring to the depths of the ship.

It was late when he finally came. Shirt un-tucked, usual sash missing from his waist, hair tousled. She grinned when she saw him, noting his appearance and immediately distinguishing what the ruffled look was the result of.

"Lust," she simply mused as she glanced up and down the length of his body. "Fleeting and transitory."

He offered no response; merely staring at her with raised eyebrows and an unreadable expression.

"No response?" Tia continued to taunt, "my Jack, you _are_ aging."

"I disagree."

"I believe you to be a fool."

Jack grinned slightly, the spark back in his eyes. "Agree to disagree, then? Now, how does one go about becoming eternally youthful?"

"Not eternally youthful," Tia replied in a slow drawl. "Suspending you in the age in which you currently reside, is a better description."

He scoffed at the distinction. "You never answered my question. What price is your little…gift?"

"Your greed is vast. What would you pay?"

He answered both remarks. "Your greed mirror's mine and doubtlessly that is the price I have to pay."

Tia grinned and stood, casting another sweeping glance over Jack. "Doubtlessly." She moved closer towards him. "What would Elizabeth think of you being here?"

"She doesn't need to know," Jack replied. By now, his greed was hindering any control he had over the situation and himself.

And, like Jack, Tia grinned one last time and gave herself into her own greed, too.

She could've left him like he was, pant-less and exhausted, and double-crossed him like he would have her, had the situation been reversed. Left him with his betrayal weighing heavily on his mind and nothing to prove its merit.

But she fancied herself a woman of her word – however, this fancy was often revisited on a case-to-case basis – and instead, she lent down and pressed one last chaste kiss to his lips.

"Welcome to youth, Captain Sparrow."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Reviews are love. 


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